Tomorrow's Mask
by soupygirl
Summary: "Do you fear death?" Asked the masked figure, looking down upon the youth. "No," came the simple answer. "Then you fear people killing?" "No." "Well then, child, what brings you to my shrine on your death day?" Hiro looked up into the holes of the mask, a determination apparent in his dark but glowing orbs."I want to know why you kill." Rated T for language
1. The Shrine

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Chapter 1-The Shrine

In their world, peace was a gift. A gift that was believed to be one of good behavior. They were blessed with simplicity for a period of time: that was how they saw it. Well, most of them. There were some who didn't really care about the Masks(1), who defied them. Who never prayed at the shrines. Who dared to look them in the eye. Many of those people are not alive.

Hiro Hamada saw himself in the grey area of this defined line. He was neither a dedicated worshipper of the mortal gods or a rebel to them. In his own eyes, Hiro was a through the motions of life as he was expected to. He was not born in the city-state of San Fransokyo, where he was born was a mystery to him as much as anyone else. His parents had long since passed away, and he had taken residence with his Aunt Cass in her home. She was so kind thou m, treating him like the son she had always dreamed of. In return, Hiro worked in the cafe she ran in the town's market.

At this particular moment, Hiro was cleaning the attic, upon Aunt Cass' request. He of course obliged, feeling he has an endless debt to the woman. The roof hung low near his head, even as he l kneeled over the boxes and chests. The boy was either constantly coughing or sneezing from the aged dust being bristled from what they thought was their final resting place. As Hiro shoved boxes from one end of the narrow room to the other, he came across a rather old chest that had a withered away and broken lock. Normally, Hiro would have ignored the aged trunk; he would have simply pushed it aside, and simply kept going. The only exception was that this chest was _open._

The lock was not only broken, but it sat shattered on the rotting floor, a hammer not far away. Instead of resting closed on its hinges the chest's top had been once flung open, like the gaping jaws of a hippopotamus. Items varying from picture frames to trinkets sat sticking out randomly in a forced and unorganized fashion. Hiro picked up a fallen picture frame and smiled softly. The chest was from his birth-nation. The remnants of his family sat in this old trunk. In the old frame was a picture of Hiro's once complete family. Faded near the top of the photo were the faces of his mother and father. They were smiling, but that was all Hiro could tell from the image. He couldn't bring himself to recall their faces. Like the picture, Hiro's memories of his parents were faded. However, his brother was clear in his mind.

Tadashi, Hiro's older brother, died as a Blessed. A Blessed is someone, most often a youth, who is being considered to be that year's Áldozat, (2) who is a chosen servant of the Masks, hand picked from children of every Nation. Only 5 Áldozats are chosen yearly, and all other Blesseds are sacrificed by the flames of honor off consideration. Tadashi was picked to represent San Fransokyo when Hiro was only 7 when Tadashi was chosen at age 14. Hiro was now 14, himself. Tadashi would have been 21.

In the image, Tadashi's young and smiling face was shown as he held a young Hiro in his arms. He placed the framed photo beside him and continued to observe the contents of the trunk.

There wasn't too many things of interest in the chest: some childhood toys, more pictures, and some books. One book in particular was a translation book that contained several different languages. What truly caught Hiro's attention, however, was the katana that sat at the bottom of the trunk. He had discovered it while rummaging through some other trinkets from his mother and/or father, the glint of the golden collar catching his eye.

The scabbard was made of an aging black leather,scarred in several places from water and mortality. It's handle was a lighter leather, worn from use, but the braid of the handle actually seemed fairly in tact. Unsheathing the blade ended in Hiro looking at his own reflection. The blade itself was finely polished, and most likely never used. If the handle is worn, then why is the blade a pure stream of silver? Hiro pondered this briefly. _Maybe it was only used for ceremonies._

"Hiro?! Are you most done?"

Hiro was snapped out of his thoughts after hearing his Aunt Cass call him, and he quickly repacked everything before finally shutting the trunk's gaping jaw. He then quickly stood (as best he could) and made his way downstairs. "Hang on a second!" He called back.

Below the attic was an average loft filled with memories on the walls and tables. From the little scratch Aunt Cass made on the floor when she tripped on a pair of 8 inch stilettos, to the small memorial shrine for Tadashi, covered in photos and drying tea leaves. Aunt Cass was sitting at the the small oak table with a cell phone in hand. She was always updating her status on some social site. When she finally glanced up upon Hiro's arrival, she flashed a candid smile. "Hey, hun. Did you finish?" She asked.

"Yup. I was just looking through some old stuff." Hiro said, trotting up next to her seat. She gave him a sly look and noted, "Looking isn't exactly finishing. You know that, right?"

Hiro laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, well, I was amusing myself. Things a quite boring in the attic. And dusty."

"Well, what did you manage to find? Buried treasure?"

"Hah. Close. I found a trunk of mom and dad's old stuff from where I was born. There was some cool stuff actually. A sword, even." Hiro said, finally taking a seat.

"Oh, your mother's katana?" Aunt Cass asked, putting her phone down. "She always had it with her... But never dared to use it. She was such a pacifist, you know. Totally against fighting."

"Then why did she carry around a katana? That doesn't sound very pacifistic," Hiro said, more curious than confused.

"She was afraid of being killed," Aunt Cass answered solemnly before standing up quickly and picking up her purse. "Now come on, we've got to go to The Shrine today. Both of us have been putting it off for too long and it's already friday."

Hiro nodded and stood up to follow his aunt out the door silently. However, his mind was racing so fast he couldn't keep up with himself. He had never realized how little he really knew about his family. For instance, why did his mother fear being killed? Did both of his parents carry swords like that one? Where _did _they all come from? All Hiro could do was wonder, and hope he had the guts to ask Aunt Cass.

The Shrine was said to be the most pure place in every nation. The building itself was small and plain, no real bold color that allows it to stand out. Inside, however, was very extravagant. Inside was a beautiful terrarium, with several different variations of bushes and lily flowers. In the center of the terrarium was The Shrine, simple and elegant. Surrounded by shapely stones, a small oak table sat alone with some scrolls with writings from The Masks original scriptures, and a bowl of lit incense. Only one person is allowed to enter The Shrine at a time, so Aunt Cass allowed Hiro to go in first.

Normally, Hiro would just go through the motions: send a prayer to The Masks asking for guidance to purity, and move on. But this time, he actually had something to ask for. Hiro knelt down in front of the oak table and put his hands together. "I usually don't ask for anything," he started, staring at the nearly ancient scrolls, "So, when I do finally ask for something, you'll listen, right?"

A dry laugh escaped Hiro as he continued to struggle for words.

"Alright... I just want to know, I guess. I want to understand, too. My past, my family, myself... Just everything in this world. I feel like I've been caged for the longest time! I just. I don't know. I don't know, and that's my problem. When I found my mother's katana... I just had a realization, I guess. About how little I know... So, can you help me?"

Hiro sat in silence, listening for the intangible response. According to the Cloaks, who care for The Shrine and lead followers in their belief, his request was in the hands of The Masks, and Hiro could not ask again until he is either granted or denied. _But how do I know?_ Hiro asked himself. He had never asked for anything before; he never had a reason to. He was naive, he finally came to see clearly. Trapped in a cage of simplicity, of not caring. Hiro wanted to break free, and knowledge was the key.

After another few minutes, Hiro stood up, and walked out of the terrarium.

**Aaaaand that's the first chapter! I really hope everyone enjoyed my lack of writing skill. I hope to do better as I plan to take AP English (which is like college in high school) to make things a lot better! Now for those notes!**

**(1)- so basically The Masks are mortal Gods, chosen by birthright and each have their own name based on what they specialize in. For example, on is be Prosperity, Hope, Glory, etc. But there are not so nice guys like Chaos, Greed, Selfishness, and so on. They each wear an oriental mask to hide their face, for they wish to hide their mortal identity and be seen as their immortal representations. However, if any Mask sees something unjust or declares someone to be disturbing the peace, they may kill such person. If this is unclear, I promise to explain more in later chapters! **

**(2)-I'm not going to say much about the literal meaning of Áldozat, but I will say it is a Hungarian term, and its translation will come into play later. You can look it up If you want, but I don't recommend it if you want the full suspense of the story. Anyway, the Áldozat is exactly as I described; honored servants of The Masks. They are chosen from a group of Blesseds, ranging from ages 13-19.**

**Thanks for reading! Like and review please please please! Bye for now! '3'**


	2. The Square

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon

Chapter 2- The Square

Shortly after Hiro's few moments of solitude in The Shrine, it was Aunt Cass' turn to submit her prayers to The Masks. Knowing she often took her time with her prayers, Aunt Cass sent Hiro out to do some grocery shopping.

San Fransokyo was famous for it's wide range of culture on it's market place. The colors of the square beaded a base of red and gold: the defining symbols of the city-state. But everywhere, there were mixed accents of other worlds. Around the Eastern Corner of the square was an arrangement of purples, and light blues, along with brighter shades of red. This was also known as the Londelhi (1) Quarter. Across the way was Brajing (2) Quarter, represented by green, yellow, and orange banners. Then there was the Northern Corner, also known as the Bandrid (3), shown through square by the gentle whites, pinks, and golds. Finally, the southernmost point, also considered the "black market" of the square, rested the notorious Ulan Bassels (4) Quarter. Ominous shades of brown, gray, and black was shown for San Fransokians to observe the pride of the ever-growing empire. To keep the peace, San Fransokyo had opened its trading paths to Ulan Bassels, hoping to remain a spectator in the country's powerful uprising. Fortunately, for Hiro, he rarely ever had to shop in the Southern Corner. Of course, the center of the market was represented by none other than San Fransokyo itself. Despite having a rather large cultural mix, the city-state itself had a rather large personality. Such personality was seen mostly at night, as almost 4,000 homes outshined the stars when the moon rested overhead.

Aunt Cass' shopping request brought Hiro to the Londelhi Quarter. Many rare silks were sold here, along with several different herbs and leaves for teas, medicine, and there was also some special breads that were not commonly made in San Fransokyo. Aunt Cass had asked Hiro to find some tea leaves for her to experiment with. Knowing Aunt Cass, Hiro had taken it upon himself to bring a little more money than recommended.

The man who more often than not gave Hiro a decedent deal was Mr. Callaghan, a retired Watcher (5), or caretaker, of The Shrine. He was very close to Tadashi, and gave up his position when the boy had died as a Blessed. Mr. Callaghan ran the largest stand in the Eastern Corner, specializing in teas and medicinal herbs, including roots and other plants. So, with by using the process of elimination, Hiro decided to do business with him.

Mr. Callaghan smiled at Hiro as he walked up to the front of his stand. "Why, if it isn't Hiro," he said joyfully, "Is your aunt in one of her experimentation phases?"

"Yep," Hiro answered, glancing around at the various ingredients, "Aunt Cass had heard about a ginger mint green tea, and wants to sell it with her own spin."

"Ah, the catch. What is it this time?"

"Black tea."

Mr. Callaghan thought for a few moments before laughing. "To each their own, I suppose. I would grab some green leaves just in case."

Hiro nodded, picking up several fresh green tea leaves. "I intend to. I just know Aunt Cass is going to make me taste test again..." _Ugh. I'm gagging just thinking about it._

Mr. Callaghan laughed again and helped Hiro with the rest of his purchases, striking a conversation in the process. "So my daughter's been chosen as a Blessed back in Londelhi."

"Abigail? I thought she was too old!"

"Nope," Mr. Callaghan said, almost smugly, "The girl's 19."

The boy flashed a fake smile at Mr. Callaghan. "That's awesome. I'm glad for her. And you. It's an honor for the family to have a Blessed chosen."

"But you don't really see it as one, do you?"

At first, Hiro wanted to protest. He had the urge to argue defend himself in respect of his brother's role in society, in respect of his family. In respect of his Aunt Cass, in respect of himself.

But, he would also be in support of Tadashi's death.

When his older brother had been selected as a Blessed, Hiro was over the moon. He had had an overbearing amount of faith in Tadashi, and even prayed everyday to The Masks that he be chosen as an Áldozat. When he wasn't chosen, Hiro's world had fallen apart. He had felt alone and betrayed by his own society, by his own lifestyle. He had felt so broken, it was as though he couldn't pick up the scattered pieces without Tadashi. Without the brother he so dreary loved. Without the brother that was now, and has been, dead.

"I suppose I should say it's an honor for your child to be chosen as an Áldozat..." Hiro finally responded.

Mr. Callaghan smiled softly and placed a hand on the young Hamada's shoulder. "It is an honor to be a Blessed. Believe me, Tadashi was proud. So is Abigail. You should be proud of your brother as well."

"I am! Don't get me wrong! I just-"

"It alright, Hiro. I understand. You miss him. It's alright to miss him."

He looked to the side and nodded meekly. He wouldn't deny what was already so obvious. He quickly thanked Mr. Callaghan and paid him for the supplies before turning around and making his way back home to Aunt Cass. Where then she would greet him excitedly and get straight to work on her new tea experiment. And on the kitchen island, Hiro would either text his friends on his phone, or perhaps, in contrast to the social life, browse the internet via videos of funny memes.

Keyword: _would_

A young blonde boy wearing a paint-covered sweatshirt ran up to Hiro before he could leave the square. He ran up to the young Hamada and tackled him before he could escape. "HIROOOOOOOO HAMADAAAAAAAAA!"

Attempting to push the other boy off of him, Hiro choked out, "Y...Yukio... G..Get off!"

The boy called Yukio jumped up and pulled Hiro up to his feet as well. Upon closer inspection of his face, Hiro could see paint dotted on his face in various grays and and browns.

"Well, Mr. Ulan Bassels Pride Parade, do you need something?" Hiro remarked slyly.

Yukio looked himself over and shrugged, still smiling. "I was helping my dad repaint the stand he owns. What are you doing here? Errands for Cass?"

"No Yukio. I'm carrying a bunch of tea leaves, mint, and ginger to throw into the nearby garbage."

"Full of the vinegar, aren't we?"

Hiro rolled his eyes and lightly, and affectionately, punched Yukio's arm. Yes, this strange ball of energy was Hiro's friend. Yukio was actually born in Paroul (6), which was lost to the tyranny of Ulan Brassels. He, his father, and his sister had moved several times to flee the rising nation, but always found themselves trapped again. They had finally settled down when his sister, Amanda, had been chosen as a Blessed. Tadashi had met Amanda, and wrote to Hiro, telling him of Yukio. Hiro had always been jealous of Yukio, for that year Amanda had been chosen as the Áldozat. Needless to say, the two were very close.

"So are you pumped for the Choosings (7)?" Yukio chirped lightly, bouncing beside Hiro as he made his way back to the café.

"I suppose." Came the Hamada boy's simple answer.

"Well, prepare to be."

"Why is that?"

"Cause I've been chosen as a Blessed! I'm going to the center!"

**Holy BUTTS I'm getting, like serious support from you guys. Thank you so much for supporting me in my first story. I promise to do everything in my power to not let you down. Soooooo I made a lot of notes here... But I promise most of them are pretty short. So let's go!**

**(1)- So, in honor of the theme San Fransokyo bass set, I have developed several names on the similar theme! Londehli is a combination of London, England, and Delhi, India.**

**(2)- Brasília,Brazil, and Beijing, China mashup!**

**(3)- Bangkok, Thailand, and Madrid, Spain together as one. (To with a dirty mind, guess what else this can be. '3')**

**(4)- Ulan Bator, Mongolia, and Brussels, Belgium all in one name!**

**(5)- Paris, France, and Seoul, South Korea! (No offence to North Korea, South Korea's capital just came up first on Google)**

**(6)- Woah! A somewhat long explanation appeared! So Watchers are the people who, as I previously stated, caretakers of The Shrines of every nation. There are three per shrine, and a new one is voted upon by The Masks when a Watcher either dies or retires, as Mr. Callaghan did. They also act as guides, per say. Watchers have the "gift" to offer advice to the people in the place of The Masks. However, they cannot provide the "all knowing" information that The Masks have.**

**(7)- The Choosings are literally just the days that children or young adults are chosen as Blesseds. It doesn't have to happen in the nation itself, just to someone representing that nation.**

**Holy only with a ton of guacamole that was a ton of notes. But, anyways, thank you all So much for reading again. I apologize for any OOCness, and please review! I could always use the support! **

**ALSO: Special thanks to:**

**-Aj neko **

**-Fuuga GF**

**-Purpalz Miner**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**-AzureSynergy **

**-write that wrong**

**-Mr. Jodrick**

**And everyone else who enjoyed stories! **

**If you want me to actually respond to your review (I'm sorry I didn't think of this earlier), put a ('3') face at the end of your review! **

**Lovies! '3'**


	3. The Robbery

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Chapter 3- The Robbery

Hiro couldn't find the find the words. He couldn't even think. Yukio was chosen as a Blessed. He was going to the Center (1)- _WAIT A MINUTE._

" I thought only The Masks were allowed in the Center." Hiro finally responded.

Yukio laughed his ass off, his genius prank complete. He loved to toy with Hiro's emotions from time to time. "The look on your face though! PRICELESS!"

This deserved a forceful punch to the arm, which was given by none other an Hiro. "I'm sorry, man. But I couldn't resist! I did the same thing last year, and you almost cried," Yukio slung an arm over his friend's shoulders as he spoke, "Think of it as a test to see if you still care for me, yeah? Besides, you know I don't qualify (2)."

Hiro nodded looked at his friend with a truthful smile. "Yeah. I guess I forgot. But as punishment for scaring me, You will suffer with me through Aunt Cass' experiments for the rest of the day."

"You're so _cruel, _Hiro!"

"Even better that you hate black tea."

"Seriously? Aww!"

As always, Aunt Cass' café was warm and welcoming. Small wooden tables were scattered across the area, accompanied by cozy cushioned chairs and napkin dispensers. To fit the theme of San Fransokyo, the walls were painted red with streams of golden accents. A small cat figurine was placed in the center of every table, in honor of Aunt Cass' most prized possession, Mochi the cat. Behind the small counter was the kitchen; a clean, simple environment that allowed Aunt Cass master her craft.

Sitting at one of the tables were two girls. One of them, with her body sank into the chair, wore her blue-dyed hair in a sloppy bun, and a tobacco leather jacket on top of her rock band shirt. Her sneakers were worn down and starting to tear. The other girl was her opposite. Pastel colored blouse, clean-looking stilettos, and perfect flowing brown hair. Despite their differences, both girls were having a pleasant conversation with each other when Hiro and Yukio walked in.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Amu's out and about!" Yukio laughed.

The girl in the jacket shot up and pointed a finger at Yukio, glaring daggers at the anything-but-intimidated boy. "You're still on my hit list, you know." She spat.

Hiro glanced over at Yukio, raising an eyebrow. "What did you do this time?" He asked.

"Well," the other girl started, "From what May told me, Yukio dropped a balloon full of-mustard, was it?" Amu nodded, "Gotcha. He dropped a mustard bomb on her head when she was talking to Romeo, that guy she likes? But I don't want to make the call, because I don't know what happened from your perspective."

"Oh, that's exactly what happened."

" Well, then you deserve to be on Amu's hit list."

"Sacha's got a point," Hiro said, moving to the kitchen to find his Aunt Cass, "You ruined her love life, you deserve whatever you get. And you still have to drink Aunt Cass' tea."

Yukio flopped down in the nearest chair and groaned, sliding down face first onto the table. "But I don't _wanna._" He replied.

"Wait, what about tea?" Sacha asked.

"Mr. Class Clown over here scared me into thinking he was chosen as a Blessed, and now he is being punished by having to suffer through black ginger mint tea. Without any aide."

"Hoo boy. If Cass Hamada is experimenting, then I'm getting the Hell out of her." Amu said as she stood up and made her way to the front entrance, soon to be an exit. Yukio grabbed the girl's sleeve and tried to pull her down to the chair next to him. "SUFFER WITH ME!" He screamed.

Amu tumbled down to the floor, and Yukio flung down with him, landing on top of her. She shoved Yukio off of her body, and attempted to stand up, only to be yanked under the table by Yukio. Amu, who was now entangled in fury and aggravation, promptly kicked Yukio square in the forehead and pried his vice grip from her ankle. Sacha, at this point, had ran off to get Hiro to pull the two apart, for she was far too delicate herself to do it. She knew she didn't have the strength. Yukio let out a howl of pain and even growled soon afterwards. He jumped up to reach for Amu once again, but instead banged his head under the table and fell back down in agony. When Hiro finally came bursting on the scenes, Yukio laid on the ground, seemingly unconscious, and Amu was fading into the distance outside the café, and down the street.

Hiro, whom had seen far too many fights between Amu and Yukio, strolled over to the possibly dead body and kicked him lightly in the leg. "She's gone man, get up." He deadpanned.

Yukio only groaned again and shooed Hiro's foot away. Hiro only kicked harder. Yukio only groaned louder. Sacha tapped Hiro's shoulder slightly and he glanced at her before stepping out of the way, allowing Sacha access to Yukio. She knelt down and put her index finger in her mouth, licking it. Hiro instantly knew what she was going to do, and sat down in a chair with a wide grin. She then took her finger and promptly shoved it in Yukio's ear. The poor unfortunate soul squealed loudly and jumped to his feet, skittering across the room to escape Sacha's cold, saliva-soaked touch.

"Seriously, Sacha! You are the _grossest _person I have ever met!"

Sacha only laughed and waved him off. She then returned to her seat and fiddled with her phone. Aunt Cass, who was seemingly oblivious to the previous chaos, walked in only moments later.

"Did you bring a pig in here, Hiro?"

Yukio laughed nervously and waved shyly. "Hiii Ms. Hamada...Heheh... That was me." He noted.

"Well, you could have at least been little more manly," Aunt Cass responded before turning to her nephew, "Oh, and Hiro, I've been meaning to ask you, when you were in the attic, did you happen to see your father's katana too?"

Hiro raised an eyebrow and gave his aunt a confused look. "My dad had a katana too?"

"Your mom had a katana? And you didn't tell _me_?" Yukio asked, a hand over his heart, as if he had been shot, "I'm hurt Hiro. Very hurt."

"Shush you," Hiro ordered before turning his attention back to Aunt Cass. "I only saw one katana in the chest."

"Well, that's odd," Aunt Cass pondered, "I could have sworn that your father's katana was up there too. Maybe I moved it and forgot where I put it."

Sacha looked up from her phone and nodded. "That seems to be the most logical thing," she said before looking at Hiro, "Unless you saw something out of the ordinary."

"Not that I-"

He stopped himself, and caught hold of a grasping memory. Distant, and easily forgettable. But it was there. The hammer that broke the lock. It was still there. Hiro had been so distracted by the chest itself, that he had completely overlooked the broken lock and hammer. The lock was shattered, battered, he could faintly remember. The hammer had broken the lock. It was obvious, of course, when he finally paid attention to the nuances of the lock. The memory itself was distant; he needed to look again. He needed to be sure. He needed to _know_.

"Aunt Cass?"

"Hm?"

"I think we've been robbed."

Aunt Cass and Hiro sat in the attic alone together: both Yukio and Sacha returned home with the fleeting sunlight. With what little brightness the aged lightbulb gave, Aunt Cass examined the battered lock in her hands. From close up, Hiro could see subtle crescents accenting the aged metal. He looked down at the hammer in his hands. The head appeared to be abused: the once flattened head was distorted and jagged by stress marks. Someone, perhaps a long time ago for Hiro had

"Well," Aunt Cass sighed, "I guess Someone broke in a while ago, and we didn't even notice... What a shame."

"Shame?" Hiro whispered, as though worried he would wake some unseen power from a light slumber, "Isn't there something we can do, though? I mean, I get it was a long time ago, But maybe we can ask around, maybe even look in the black market-"

"It's _gone,_ Hiro," Aunt Cass stopped him, "I'm sorry, but I doubt you'll ever see it again. Besides, it's only a sword. And you still have your mother's."

There was a moment of pregnant silence. Followed by another, then by another. Hiro was left alone in the attic when Aunt Cass had left in favor of finishing business with the café. The lock and hammer sat on the floor, mocking him. Telling him he'd lost. That he would never know who broke in years ago. He would never know why they stole his father's katana. He will never know where that sword it today.

"I _have _to know." He said out loud.

With those last words to himself, Hiro sat in silence; trapped by his own thoughts. He didn't move until Aunt Cass called him down for dinner.

**YUKIO YOU JERK DON'T PLAY WITH MY BABY'S FEELS! Lol sorry guys, from the character traits I have for him, he's a total ass. Feel free to rage, hate, complain, etc. to me all you want. Just please keep reading. That's all I ask. Anyway, I have good news! A friend of mine has asked to help me out with this story! I got an editor! He's awesome and will hopefully talk in the notes sometimes! Well, time for said notes!**

**(1)- I forgot to mention this in the last chapter... But the Center is the literally the center of the largest landmass on the planet (but that doesn't mean that they are on Earth as we currently know it!) In this AU, the people of the olden days (yes I call them that) discovered the Center, for they all believed that they had literally found the center of the world, but later evolution proved otherwise. Anyway, these people of olden times decided that the center point of their world should be the center point of their worship. It was decided then that the Masks were to live in the Center.**

**(2)- When someone is chosen as an Áldozat, all of their siblings no longer qualify to be a Blessed or Áldozat because they cannot live up to the legacy that their siblings held. **

**Yay notes over! Thank you all forms suffering through my terribly written BS. I'm not done yet, though! One of you asked me to respond to their review! Here we go! The review will be italicized, and my response will immediately follow.**

_**Wow, okay, so Hiro is totally jealous to Yukio, because he got to be Blessed. Okay, so what is this, Blessed so special? And how do you know if you are Blessed? And what is the difference between Alzodat? Wha...  
Update soon!  
And no escape on this review! '3'**_

_**-Purpalz Miner**_

**First of all, thank you so much for the review! It's very brave of you to be the first to have their review in my notes. Now, onto your questions! I'll start with the differences between a Blessed and an Áldozat. An Áldozat acts as a servant to The Masks, while a Blessed is someone who is chosen to be considered to become an Áldozat. That's what makes the Blessed so special. They are being considered to be a very important role in their belief system. It is a very high honor. You don't really "know you are a Blessed, however. Children who fit the age qualifications are considered by the Watchers of the nation, and they choose one who they consider worthy to represent the nation as a Blessed. Also, I feel really bad for bursting your bubble this chapter about Hiro being jealous of Yukio being chosen. jealous, but for a different reason. I won't say much more on the matter. But I'm so sorry for confusing you! I hope this gives you clarification! Lovies!**

**Special thanks to:**

**-My editor (who names himself as: Michael Khouri)**

**-Purpalz Miner**

**-Forever Me**

**-taniko-chan**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**-DestinyWing **

**-FrostBite Queen **

**-Blackrom (btw, I understand the reference there, if one was intended. '3')**

**Along with everyone else who enjoyed my story!**

**Seriously, guys. Thank you so much for supporting me in my first story. I really want to pull you all into this world I had in mind. I can't thank you enough. Always keep in mind, I'm sorry for OOCness. And remember, leave a review, and put a ('3') at the end for me to respond directly in the next chapter!**

**Lovies! '3'**


	4. The Deal

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Chapter 4- The Deal

The next morning, Hiro got news that the Blessed representing San Fransokyo was chosen. His name was Naegi, a 17 year-old boy who the young Hamada knew as Amu's older brother.

Both she and Hiro sat together in the café at a table by the window. The bustle of the early morning had slowed itself to people in their own seats; with coffee cups and various delicious morning Aunt Cass busied herself with the locals, Hiro told Amu of his discovery after she had left on a whim of aggravation.

"So your pop had a sword, and it was stolen a long time ago," Amu noted, sipping her coffee thoughtfully, "I honestly don't see what's so important. You said that you had your mom's sword too, right?"

Hiro shook his head slightly and leaned on the table, careful of Amu's breakfast. "But this is how I can learn," he said excitedly, "Maybe if I look for my father's katana, I can find out where it came from. If I can do that-"

"You might be able to figure out where _you _came from." She finished.

"Bingo."

"Gotta say, Hiro, you're shooting for the moon from the bottom of the of the ocean. But, it's not an impossible shot." Amu said after thinking for a moment.

"I'm gonna need help though."

"I'm assuming you want me to be that help."

"So are you in?"

"Is my brother this year's Blessed?"

"Speaking of that," Hiro said while he slid back into his chair, "How do you feel about Naegi being chosen?"

Amu looked out the window beside her, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. "I mean, I have to be happy for him," she hummed half heartedly, "It's literally supposed to be the greatest honor to happen for our slum family. But, then again, there's a chance that we will be standing over an ashen building on our death day (1). It's not like I'm jealous of him, like little Janine- you know, my baby sister? Of course you know Janine, you were at my house letting me sob my eyes out when we all thought she was dying from pneumonia-"

Amu stopped herself mid sentence, choking choking back salty tears, filled with fear and sorrow. Hiro placed a comforting hand on her arm. He could recall that day all too clearly. Janine, a 7 year old bundle of joy, was very frail and was never in perfect health. Janine especially had various issues with her lungs. Almost a year ago, the poor girl fell ill to a horrible case of pneumonia. Since her family did not have a very large income, and often struggled with bills. This resulted in a lack of medicine for Janine when she was chronically sick. When it seemed as though there was no help left, Amu had reached out to her classmate, Hiro, whom she had only spoken to occasionally. Knowing the pain of losing of a sibling, the young Hamada had accepted the troubled girl's invitation, and sat by her side next to what they thought was going to be Janine's deathbed. This pattern continued for almost a week until the suffering child was given new life once at Death's door. Janine had made a miraculous recovery from her ailment in no less than two weeks. From that day, although she had never voiced it, Amu had always felt as though she had a debt to her friend. He had helped her in her darkest hour when he had barely known her.

"Sorry, I'm fine," she said, a soft smile on her face, "You know how I worry about little Jay. Where was I?"

"Something about jealousy."

"Riiiiiight. So, I'm not jealous of him, and kinda glad that I'm out of the running (2). But, of course, I'm worried that he won't get chosen."

Hiro nodded and leaned forward in his chair again. "Naegi's a good guy. I'm sure he'll get chosen."

Amu flashed another smile and finished off the rest of her drink. She then leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms towards the sky while yawning. Her hands then pressed forward towards Hiro, who swatted the reaching palms away. "I hope your big brain also applies to your accuracy of chance."

"What can I say?", Hiro smirked casually, "It's all about the probability."

"So, let me get this straight, going back to you, "Amu said, "You wanna find your dad's sword, to open up a conspiracy about your past and discover where you really came from."

"More or less." He chuckled.

"And you want my help?"

"We've already been through this."

"But we haven't made a blood oath yet."

"Wha- _Amu!_"

"You know I'm kidding." Amu laughed. "I'll do it... If I get free breakfast until we finish the job. Do we have a deal, Mr. Hamada?"

Hiro thought for a moment before holding his hand across the table. Amu took his hand in her own grip and shook it firmly.

"Deal."

The day's hours had ticked past as if Father Time had pressed a fast forward button. Nothing of great interest had occurred, and Hiro went through the motions with a half-focused mind. He sat alone in his room, reading one of the old books that was aged and water-stained from the old chest. It was fairly interesting-a "brief" summary of the concept of biological engineering- and Hiro had barely been able to put it down. The topic fascinated him; just like the other sciences. If he could, Hiro would surround himself with scientific knowledge and build his future. But, classes that included such topic were not allowed to Hiro until he was 17. He would rather not wait 3 years to take a simple class, but he had no choice but to do so.

After their deal was made, Amu had invited Hiro to Naegi's celebration party for being chosen as a Blessed. He had politely declined, developing a poor excuse of having to work on an english project. He wasn't lying, however, he did in fact have an english report due the next day. He had finished it early that morning, and the almost perfected essay sat on Hiro's desk, waiting to be examined and assaulted by the bloody-inked pen of his teacher. Amu, forgetting about the assignment completely over the weekend, panicked and ran home to bullshit her opinion on the media's standpoint on whatever topic she chose. Hiro had chosen the medical sciences, and how the media sometimes look too fondly at poorly designed "advancements in the medical world". He was laughing at himself as he typed his final draft, feeling hypocritical to his own blueprints for future designs. Hiro, back when Tadashi was alive, had designed simple and childish fighting robots with his older brother, whom of which had dreamed of making a medical android, nicknaming the huggable figure he could never build project BAYMAX. He had thought Tadashi's ideas were genius, and thought the same for his own. Only his brother's work had stayed true to Hiro's opinion.

Hiro hadn't realized he had finished the book until he was reading the last acknowledgement for the third time. He closed the book and glanced at the time. The digital clock on his desk read 6:47 PM in a soft glowing red light. The young Hamada then turned his attention to his mother's katana, which sat on Tadashi's unused bed sheets. Encased in a fear that his only chance to find his father's sword would be stolen as well, Hiro had brought the clean blade down from the attic, and planned to hide it in his once shared closet. He smiled half-heartedly at the thought of his family and stood from his bed to see the sword a little better. Mochi was sitting next to the katana, staring at nothing. She meowed as Hiro approached and received a small but affectionate pat to the head. The boy unsheathed his mother's blade and raised it in the air, as if preparing for battle with a terrible stance. He looked closely at the reflecting blade. It seemed to almost have a soft glow with the setting sun's light reflecting off of it's surfaces. All except in one spot, near the tip of the blade, where a dark silhouette stood at Hiro's window.

He quickly turned around to see who was standing there; however, only an owl sat at the window sill, staring out into the open sky. Hiro sighed at his own paranoia and replaced the blade in it's scabbard. He then opened the closet nearby and laid the katana in a snug back corner behind some boxes. He could have sworn that the figure he saw was bigger than the nocturnal bird but he decided not to ponder it. Within a few moments, Hiro heard Aunt Cass call for him to eat dinner, and he answered her with his thumping on the stairs.

**And there we have it! Woot! I'm sorry this takes so long you guys. I feel bad for making you all wait. But thank you for hanging in there and reading! It feels really great when I see that someone likes my story. I've been thinking of trying to post twice a week for an actual schedule. I can't guarantee stuff, cause I'll be gone all weekend (was gone all weekend, I'm so sorry for making you all wait) , but I will swear that chapter 5 will be up sooner than you think! Notes time!**

**(1)- a city's death day is when all the cities who did not have Blesseds chosen as Áldozats kill their Blesseds. As dark as it seems, it is considered to be an honorable sacrifice. Each city chooses a different death day (hence why Amu says "our") and they each have different tactics. **

**(2)-I forgot to mention this, but some of you actually read between the lines and got what I was saying. What I meant to say in the last chapter was that if someone is chosen as a Blessed, just an Áldozat, the rest of their family no longer qualifies to become a Blessed. So, yes, Hiro cannot be a Blessed. Unless there was some weird exception that I totally BS. But I won't do that to you guys. :D**

**Thus concludes notes! Now for reviews!**

_**Ohh...**_

_**Thanks for the reply! And for the praise you told me for being brave! Hehehe**_

_**Dont worry, you're not confusing me!**_

_**Okay, Hiro is so serious about the 'robbery' of his father's katana, I mean, you have your mother's katana right? There is no different probably between the two swords!**_

_**Update soon!**_

_**And I'm putting '3' becuase I love being mentioned in a chapter. Hahahaha**_

_**'3'3'3'3''3'3'3'3'3'3'3'**_

_**-Purpalz Miner**_

**No problem for the praise! I'm glad that I'm not confusing you or anybody! And you're right, Hiro does have his mother's katana. Hopefully this chapter answered questions for you. And I will only say this; there is one major difference between the two katanas. **

**Special thanks to:**

**-Michael Khouri**

**-Purpalz Miner**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**-Mr. Jodrick**

**-pengino5123**

**-i-may-or-may-not-be-insane**

**-prettyflower34**

**-Mistress Thorki**

**And everyone else who reads and likes the story!**

**HEY! Want me to respond to your review? Do you have any questions? Are you confused to Hell at what just happened? Put a ('3') at the end of your review! I'll respond to you in the notes! (cue cheesy commercial music from the 1950's)**

**Aaaaaaaand that's it for this round! Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate this. I know I'm an emotional loser and such but I really appreciate you guys being interested in my lame story. You have no idea how wide I smile when I get an email about a favorite, follow, or review. In fact, why don't you do that if you're new to my story? If you want to deal with me, that is.**

**Lovies! '3'**


	5. The Swordsman

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Chapter 5- The Swordsman

Hiro was bored. _Very_ bored.

If he had the ability to switch places with someone, he didn't know if he would want someone to suffer through this dullness and pain. Hiro Hamada, top of his class, sat next to his competitor, and friend, Sacha Stevenson, as they both suffered through a seminar. On Melanoma. A skin cancer related to moles. Neither of the two teens could really focus on the topic at hand as the two old women droned effortlessly and monotonously through their speeches on Sun Protection Factor. The two were not paying attention for two different reasons. Sacha was too busy looking forward to her tennis meet, where she would be able to show off her skills on the court and run off some energy. Hiro's anxiousness was for the opposite reason.

Once the school day was over, the young Hamada was planning on slipping away into the shadows of Ulan Bassels Quarter of the market with Amu. She had obtained a lead on a man who owned a large collection of weapons: daggers, axes, and swords were said to fill his bags like bees in their honeycomb nest. Excited at the possibility he may find a connection to his father's katana, Hiro couldn't wait to get out of school and explore the Black Market.

At the same time, he was nervous.

The Black Market was not a place that Hiro would go near; with the exception of Yukio's father's stand, also known as the only place where he felt safe in that cesspool of shady deals. Amu knew her way around the market, inside and out. She could very easily guide Hiro through the winding cons and narrow paths to their destination. However, Hiro wasn't sure of how he would behave. He imagined himself playing along with the masses, and scheming left and right. He knew, unfortunately, just how chiken he was.

He couldn't deny how irresistible it was to actually _attempt_ to scam someone. So, hire told Amu his plan once the longest seminar in his life had finally ended. As expected, the young Hamada was almost slapped in the face.

"Are you crazy!?" She spat, angrily walking beside Hiro as they made their way to the Square, " You can't just scam someone on their first try. Not only would you get yourself killed, but you of all people wouldn't get a single thing out of it."

"Is that an insult?"

"Why, yes, Hiro. It is."

Hiro rolled his eyes and waved to an unnamed friend group as they passed and flashed him a smile. The anticipation was growing beyond containment as the two approached the Ulan Bassels Corner through the numerous crowds. The wind dramatically blew the darkened banners furiously, and Hiro felt as if he was walking into war.

Truly, Ulan Bassels was an empire of war, and it reflected in its people. Ruggedly dressed in brown and black, the market clerks would either smirk deviously or offer a deadly glare as the two teens passed. Whispers of "cheap prices" were shared between con artists and their victims constantly: their chatter became the background theme to Hiro and Amu's journey into the depths of the black market.

As expected, an overbearing intimidation factor began to take Hiro. Everyone seemed to be very aggressive towards the smaller boy. It was as though he was a wounded deer in a forest of hungry, no, _starving_, grizzly bears. Just their eyes felt like bites on the young Hamada's courage, tearing it bit by bit into shreds of a long fallen carcass. Amu trudged on as Hiro slowed, finding himself caught in his surroundings. As fighting as it all was, Hiro was still fascinated. His adrenalin was pumping through his body as he turned himself slowly around to view his surroundings. The aged wood that held the surrounding stands had slightly chipped black paint, revealing the bright birch wood underneath the dark mark of the ruling empire. Nobody looked dirty, however, more as though they have done things to make them dirty. One of those images that came to Hiro's mind was a human butcher, soaked in the blood of his own species. Attempting to prevent stereotypes to get to him, he shook he thought out of his head and glanced around for Amu. But his friend was long gone. Panic struck the young Hamada for a few moments. He felt as though he were a lost puppy in a place he had never seen. In a sense, this was true. Hiro was unfamiliar with the winding organization that was the Ulan Bassels Corner of the Market. Hiro did his best to turn himself around and make his way out to the center of the market. He had a pre-formulated excuse that he chickened out and went home. However, his exploration of the new world around him had spun him around to delve deeper into the controlled chaos of business. Eventually, Hiro had found a stone wall and followed it closely as the limestone cobble stretched out to right, out to freedom. He knew Amu would be fine, the girl practically lived for the deals on precious jewelry and snazzy jackets. She knew where he was going, and could easily find her way out. However, trying to find Hiro trying to get out would be the closest thing to a real life wild goose chase. He could only hope that she wouldn't try it.

"Hey, kid!" A shady man called. He was sitting by the table with a few other men on some stools losing cards in his hands. He shuffled them professionally and laughed. "How much money do you got? Why don't you play, give us a nice game."

"And some nice cash." A half drunken man chuckled beside the man holding the cards.

Hiro stopped and looked at the men. Tadashi had taught his little brother better than to gamble with men he had never met before. However, Yukon taught him the ways poker. He couldn't resist the chance to show his skills. He smiles innocently and approached the card players, and took a seat on an empty stool. "I suppose I could play," he said shyly, "But I barely know what I'm doing."

"Don't worry kid. We'll teach you." Hiro smiled at the man and thanked him. He thanked him for the offer and believing his lie. Maybe gambling wouldn't be so bad.

When Hiro was younger, he would play tag with Tadashi and their friends. He would always feel a flutter of a gleeful panic when running around with his friends behind him, arms out and ready to poke him in the back.

Scamming five grown men out of $650 in a poker game and running for his life in the Black Market of San Fransokyo was totally different from tag.

In the brief moment of the action, Hiro felt bad for pushing bystanders out of his way as he ran down the paths to escape his pursuers, but that remorse quickly dissolved. The gamblers were stumbling around on Hiro's obstacles, so the young Hamada's regret quickly dissipated.

Hiro turned a couple of corners before stopping to catch his breath. After hearing a rather large collision and someone shouting, "MY CABBAGES!" Hiro gasped for breath and doubled over, knowing he was safe.

Safe, but oh so lost.

Hiro had dove head first into the chaos of the Black Market head first without any guidance. One stupid act of greed, and Hiro had to drag himself all around unfamiliar territory just to escape from the gambling bunch that was once behind him. In simpler words, he had pulled a Yukio.

"Looks like you got the collywobbles, kid."

The young Hamada looked up to see a man watching him from his stand. The ashen apron told Hiro that he man was some sort of blacksmith, normally hard at work with the flames of rebirth and the chilled metals of the earth. The man's skin was slightly darkened from the sun, his tan line peeping out from underneath his tee shirt. He looked at Hiro through thick glasses and a heavy red beard. He was rather buff in a sense, his work giving him a body builder's work out. In front of him on the counter of his stand were various swords and daggers, from different sides of the world. It wasn't who Amu had mentioned, not the chubby, jolly, scheming weapon collector she had described. But perhaps he was even better. "You... Sell swords?" Hiro breathed out after some more gasping for breath.

"Well, I'm not called a swordsman for selling kitchen utensils," the man who called himself a swordsman answered almost bitterly, "Don't think I'm gonna sell one of these things to you. If you lose something, I'll be paying the medical bill."

Hiro stood back up and slowly approached the swordsman's stand, wary of the not-so-pleasant stare he was getting. " I only want to ask you a question about a sword, if you've handled it."

"I'm assuming you got a picture?"

The teen nodded and pulled out his phone. Once finding the image of his mother's katana in the mess of his camera roll (Sacha stole his phone at lunch and took 42 selfies) before handing it to the swordsman. The man's face at first didn't change, his glare closely analyzing the delicate shapes of the blade. After what seemed to be a minute, he raised an eyebrow and zoomed in at a certain spot of the picture. "How the Hell..?"

"What is it? Did you find something?" Hiro asked leaning forward to get a better view, careful of the dagger pointing at his fingertips.

"Where did you get his katana?"

"In my attic. It was my mother's."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I wasn't in some stranger's attic cleaning."

"Why do you care about this katana, anyway?"

"Because I want to know about it."

The swordsman stared at Hiro for a long moment. The young Hamada just sat there and stared, a determination apparent in his returning stare. For a brief moment, the swordsman broke eye contact to see behind the young boy in the distance. His face didn't change, but he had seen the light in the mans eyes seem to shine with awe. The man then nodded and handed Hiro his phone.

"That's a pretty odd blade you got there," the swordsman started, "Looks to be a custom made, if you ask me. But it's a very specific design. I've seen a couple like that one. They're rare to go by, and sell for a high price, if that's what you had in mind. I wouldn't do that if I were you. You'd wanna hold onto something that special before someone takes it."

Hiro nodded and looked at his phone. " Whats so special about it though?"

"The braid." He swordsman pointed at the handle of the katana on Hiro's phone. The colors were a delicate black leather with a soft maroon woven between. "It's a signature. By one of the top swordsman in history. Think the name was Master Krei. Yeah, Alistair Krei. One of the best in his time. Ex-Watcher too. Hard guy to find though."

Hiro nodded slowly and recorded the name on his phone before he locked his phone before sliding it in his pocket. "How hard is he to find?"

The swordsman shrugged. "Impossible if you don't have a connection."

Hiro nodded and thanked the man before starting to walk away. While careful of the men he reverse scammed were, Hiro slowly made his way back to the wall to wander out of Ulan Bassels. A man that was impossible to find: just his luck. He needed to find one of the greatest swordsman of all time, or at least something about him. Considering that the intimidating though helpful swordsman barely knew the man's name, finding things out about this Alistair Krei would be as equally impossible as to finding the man. Perhaps he could ask around, or search th-

A strong hand clasped around Hiro's arm suddenly. He tried to scramble away, but he was quickly thrown against the wall and surrounded by the gamblers he had met prior to his discovery. Two men held daggers in their hands, and laughed disgustingly as Hiro squirmed in fruitless attempts to escape the first man's grasp. "We don't like being played," his captor spat, "So here's what we're gonna offer you, kid. Either give us the money and let us beat the shit out of you, or fight back, force us to kill you, throw you in a dumpster and take the money anyway."

Fear filled Hiro's eyes and a deathly chilled ripped down his spine. The threat only made him squirm more in a panic, he wanted to scream for help. For Amu, for Aunt Cass, for Tadashi, for someone. "N...No!" Hiro panicked under the antagonizing monsters before him and tried to kick on of them in the shin. Instead he was pushed farther up the wall and received five devious laughs from around him. "Looks like he chose option number two, boys!"

"But there's option number three, as well."

The gamblers turned around at the dark voice behind him. The swordsman stood tall behind in the now emptied passageway, one of the fashioned machete's rested securely in his palm. Four of the five men backed into the wall around Hiro, cowering in fear. The man who held Hiro against the wall stood his ground, showing himself as the leader of the unofficial gang. "And just who do you think you are, old man? This is our ordeal. Why don't you step off and go con some ugly-ass women."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," the swordsman noted casually. He approached the group with no rush to his step, and the other four gamblers scattered back to whatever rat hole they came from. The leader of the group stood between Hiro and the swordsman, his hand on the hilt of a blade that rested on his side. As brave as he stood, the gambler was sweating bullets;he was as intimidated as Hiro had been. The young Hamada still stood behind the gambler, shaking in his sneakers. He watched in shock as the gambler swung his blade towards the swordsman's face, only to have his blade deflected and tossed aside by the machete. One punch to the face caused the man to skid across the stone ground, and look up in terror as the swordsman knelt in front of Hiro, still staring at him. "You forget about the money, and leave my son alone."

Hiro raised an eyebrow at the swordsman, who gave him a wink. Hiro nodded and went with the quickly formulated plan. "If I hear from my son that you even _looked _at him funny, I will find you. And I will _end _you."

With that, the gambler stood to his feet and fled just as the others did, a small drip of blood following his trail. The swordsman stood from his feet and collected the discarded dagger, and glanced at it briefly before handing it to the young Hamada. "On the house." He said.

Taking the dagger from his savior, Hiro couldn't help but laugh nervously. "Thanks," he muttered, "I owe you big time. Uh, sir."

"Call me Grant. And don't worry about it." The swordsman replied.

"Were you following me?"

"Was trying to catch you, cause you never let me finish my thought. I came across two problems, however: you walk way too fast, and those guys are a pain in the ass."

"Oh, sorry about that. Lost hope, I guess."

Grant gestured for Hiro to follow him as he started to walk along the wall. "I don't blame you. You want to find someone who's nearly impossible to find, if you don't have a connection. I was about to say I was one of the few people who do have a connection."

"Wait, seriously?!" Hiro nearly shouted in excitement, bouncing along Grant's side as he led him to their unknown destination. "But you barely knew his name!"

"Master Krei doesn't reveal too much personal information to his students." the swordsman answered.

"You were a student of this Master Krei? That's so cool! What was it like? What stuff did her tell you? Where did you first meet him? Did he teach you how to make and use swords? Did he-"

"Slow down, kid," Grant put a hand on Hiro's shoulder to stop him in his tracks. They now stood at the outer border of the Ulan Bassels Corner, the rest of the market bustling around them as if the confrontation had never occurred. The surrounding people sold their products to one another in a peaceful manner. No gambles, scams, or con artists in sight. It felt good to be free. "Tell you what kid-by the way, what's your name?"

"Hiro. Hiro Hamada."

"Why's that name familiar?"

"My brother was a Blessed seven years ago."

"Oh. Well, I'll tell you what, come back tomorrow with the katana, and I'll get a better look at it,see if it is Master Krei's work. If it is, I'll try to get him to come here, or at least ask about it. Obviously, you wanna know about this stuff. I got to admit, I didn't really care at first. But now I'm just as curious as you, If that's even possible," Grant smirked at Hiro and patted his shoulder, "And on the other side, you help me out at the stand. As long as you don't cut a finger off. Deal?"

The swordsman held out his hand as Hiro had to Amu prior to the chaos. Hiro looked up to the man and smiled, grasping Grant's hand, and shook it affirmatively.

"I'd say deal, but someone said for me a while ago."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"_ME_."

**BOOOOOOOOOSH! New chapter! Yay! Holy moly, I had fun with this one. Something about danger is just thrilling to me. Woot! Oh, and kudos if you pick up the Avatar referance. Anyway, time for no-WAIT WHAT NO NOTES WHAT IS THIS WITCHCRAFT. I'm just as surprised as anyone could be at this point. I guess we move straight to review the-WAIT NOBODY PUT A "'3'" AT THE END OF THEIR REVIEW MORE WITCHCRAFT I AM LIVING IN THE SALEM WITCH TRIALS. Nah just kidding. It's totally fine that you guys don't want your review up here. If you DO want it though, be sure to put a "'3'" at the end of your review, and I will happily respond to you in the next chapter! Wow, these notes are actually hella short this time around…. Uh, yeah.**

**Shout out to:**

**-Michael Khouri**

**-Dreya-San**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**-PJO is the best**

**And everyone else who enjoys reading this!**

**Honestly, guys, thank you so much for dealing with me. It's awesome that you guys are enjoying this story. Including those who don't have an account. You guys are awesome too! Considering I used to be one of you...Anyways, sorry about my delays in posting chapters, and as always:**

**Lovies! '3'**


	6. The Gun

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Chapter 6- The Gun

Amu stood behind Hiro, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She had lost Hiro in the Black Market as soon as a kid can drop their new cell phone. She had attempted to search for him for about 15 minutes, but gave up soon after and made her way out to the center of the Market, assuming he would find a similar route. But _no._ Hiro just _had _to wander around like a rabbit in a carrot garden. She knew in the back of her mind that temptation would get the best of him at some point, but she would be there to stop him. Again, but _no_. Hiro couldn't go _five minutes_ without wandering around. And how does she find him? Shaking hands with a total weirdo! He probably just got the _shit _conned out of him! And now there's a stupid deal? This kid has got to be stopped before he sells his Aunt Cass' café!

Hiro turned around shyly and rubbed the back of his neck as he laughed nervously. "Amu. Hey, what's going on?"

"Where the Hell have you been?" Amu snapped back at him.

"Um, around?"

"And who the Hell is that?"

"This is Grant."

"How much money did he scam you for the dagger?"

"Funny story, actually-"

"TWO MINUTES I COULDN'T LEAVE YOU ALONE!" Amu finally exploded, "I cannot believe that you walked away from me so easily! How dumb _are_ you!"

"It wasn't my fault you left me behind!" Hiro bit back.

"YOU WANNA FIGHT PUNK?"

"AMU WE ARE NOT DOING THIS!"

"GET OVER HERE!"

Amu swung we fist at Hiro, who miraculously ducked at the last second. Grant caught the girl's arm with a swift motion and held her fast. Amu struggled or a few moments before being effortlessly dropped by her captor. After a demeaning stare down between the two, Amu returned her attention to the cowering teen. " I see you've made a friend." She deadpanned.

"Yeah," Hiro answered shyly, "I ran into him after being chased by some gamblers. He knows about the katana. And he says he can help."

"That's great and all, but why were you running away from _gamblers_?"

"Uhh..."

The Black Market had two different points of view. The frightening, intimidating perspective of the wandering customer. Then there was the perspective of the salesman. Behind the scenes of the scams, side by side with the con artists: Hiro found it fascinating.

The young Hamada sat casually on a stool with a pack of gummy bears behind Grant's stand. From his new perspective, Hiro could watch everything with a newfound courage. He felt as though he had a position of power in this Black Market, working for a swordsman. It also seemed as though he had a place in the Ulan Bassels Corner of the Square, as though he was more at home in the once foreign paths. Hiro couldn't help but smile as shoppers passed from one stand to the other. Sometimes, a couple of shady men or women who looked like they needed to mug someone on the street for a quick buck would stop in front of Grant's stands, and flash Hiro a brief smile as the glanced at the blades before them. Whenever this happened, Hiro would smile back, but then watch their moves carefully, his hand on the hilt of the dagger by his hip.

Ah, yes. The dagger from the gambler. Hiro had returned to the caféwith a knife, and a job in the Black Market with a shady swordsman he just met named Grant. Of course, Aunt Cass promptly freaked the fuck out. She had attempted to ground the young teen for life, and ban him from hanging out with whoever took him to the Black Market (which Amu protested, claiming he had ran off on his own). Grant, however, had a way with words along with swords. He had gone with the two to confront their aunt about allowing Hiro to work for Grant. At first, the redhead was obstinate in her ways:unwilling to let her last Hamada step into the world of business as a _swordsman's apprentice._ Grant, however, placated the woman's nerves with smooth talk; he assured Hiro's safety while almost flirting with the boy's aunt. This, of course, led Hiro to almost throw up, and hide in his room after getting the okay to work for Grant the next day after school. As far as Hiro knew, Grant stayed with the blushing Aunt Cass in the café for nearly two hours. He didn't want to, and didn't want to care.

The swordsman tapped Hiro his shoulder and passed him a cloth to polish some of the blades that were looking dirtied by grubby fingers and drools of want. Without a word, Hiro got to work. Behind him, Grant returned to his place farther in the back of the stand and continued analyzing the katana that the young teen had brought from home. "It definitely is in good shape," Grant muttered under his breath, "Such a clean blade."

"My mother never used it," Hiro chimed in, polishing an iron blade that held an opal gem in it's hilt, "My Aunt Cass says it's because she was a pacifist."

"Oh yeah? Then why did she have a katana in the first place? Cassy tell you that?"

Hiro gagged at the pet name. "Said she was afraid of being killed."

Grant briefly glanced at his apprentice before returning to his work. "Yeesh. Sounds like you're from a harsh upbringing?" he commented.

"That's what I wanna know."

Hiro could see Grant turning to look at him from the reflection of the blade he was polishing. He only shrugged and continued to attempt to pick off a piece of dirt. "My parents both died when I was three. I don't really remember what exactly had happened, because my brother was protecting me. What I do remember, was that we were moving that day. We moved around a lot back then, and I never really understood why. I know my brother Tadashi knew, because he said we started to move around a lot just after I was born. He remembered why, but never told me. He always said I was better off not knowing. But I'd never stop pestering him. But, he's gone now, so I have to find out myself. I want to know where my family came from. I want to know who made that sword, because they will probably have the answer. I want to know what happened to my family. I want to find out why. I just want to _know._"

There was a pregnant silence between the two. Slowly, the world continued around them. People passed by without a second thought. They chatted to each other about this or that: the weather, the Blessed, the sales, their new job, how their day has gone so far. Grant continued to watch his apprentice carefully as he sat at the stool and stared at his reflection in the freshly polished blade. He could only see a glance of anger before Hiro stabbed the blade with one sharp motion into the table in front of him.

"Nobody will tell me, and I want to _know_." Hiro finally muttered, his expression hidden.

"Master Krei will tell you," Grant responded, placing a calloused hand on the Hamada's shoulder, "That katana of your is definitely one of his. I'll contact him. I promise I'll get him here, and I promise you'll get your answers."

Hiro smiled at the older man and nodded his thanks before returning to his duty of cleaning the blades. He glanced up from his work after a few minutes to see a customer staring at him. "Oh, sorry!" he said with a false enthusiasm, "I didn't see you. How can I he-"

The young Hamada frowned. It was the leader of the gamblers that he scammed.

Almost immediately, Grant was beside Hiro, a hand on the teen's shoulder. "I thought I told you to leave this boy alone." He deadpanned, shooting daggers at the gambler.

"I want my dagger back." the gambler spat back with venom.

"You dropped it," Grant started with a smirk, "If you drop it, it ain't yours anymore. It's fair game. Rules of the Black Market, bub."

The gambler scowled at the two and cracked his knuckles threateningly. "I don't have time to play this game with you. I want my blade back. I couldn't give two shits about your kid."

"Don't you _dare _say anything about Hiro like tha-"

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" Hiro jumped up from his stool and faced Grant momentarily and appeased the man. He then returned his attention to the gambler before arms were now crossed, staring the young boy down. Hiro unsheathed the dagger from his hip and tossed it to the ground beside the stand. "I didn't even want it anyway. Dull blade." he replied simply.

Before the gambler could reach for his blade, an even shadier looking homeless man crept from the shadows of the Black Market and swept in for the kill. He scooped up the blade in one foul swoop and hid it under a large jacket as droplets of rain began to scatter around the area. He fled quickly from the scene into the crowd, stumbling over his own feet. The gambler yelled at the man as he attempted to make way with his newfound treasure. Hiro could have sworn he heard the old man snicker before a loud bang forced the man to the ground. Instinctively, Hiro hid his head and ducked, the sound booming across his eardrums and pounding its anger out. After a few seconds, the young Hamada looked up and choked back a scream. Pure fear shook his body as he slowly backed away from the gambler.

The gambler and his rifle that was black as the burning ash of a fiery death.

_Holy shit, he's got a gun! _Was the only mantra that repeated in Hiro's head as the horror of the situation began to grasp the surrounding people. They began to panic and flee the scene, screams echoing and then silencing in the open air. Slowly, he young Hamada attempted to back away, but was driven in fear, his eyes were locked on the gambler and the rifle in his hand, a delicate smoke rising from the recently used barrel. _He's got a gun! He's got a gun! He's got a __**fucking**_ _gun!_

The old man lay unmoving on the ground. A deep red blood spilling from the back of his skull. The gambler approached the fresh corpse and stomped on the man's neck for good measure before digging around for his dagger. Once he stuck it in his hilt, the gun's barrel was pointed at the swordsman's stand. The barrel shook with anxiety and panic as the aim of the rifle was slowly lowered to Hiro's height. "Now I want my money."

Before Hiro could even breathe, Grant spring into action. He jumped over the table and grabbed a rapier, quickly dodging a wandering bullet that was poorly aimed. "HIRO, GET DOWN!" He managed to scream as he scrambled towards their attacker. Without a second thought, Hiro dived under the table in the back of the stand. He hid his head and closed his eyes. The explosions of the pistol only seemed louder when he did that. In a futile attempt to block out the screams of the small machine, he blocked his ears. _BANG. BANG. BANG._

_Flop. Clank._

The gambler stopped firing. Hiro dared to look up and step out from under the table. He had begged The Masks that the Gambler lay terrified on the ground, gun away and emptied with him. He internally prayed that Grant would stand victorious over the man, holding his rapier to his throat with pride. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed before for Grant's life. His prayers were both answered and not. The gambler lay dead, with the rapier lodged in his chest. Grant was not a far distance away, two bullet holes in his chest and a thief in his throat. Both men's eyes were open, but dead. They were both dead.

Hiro didn't scream in terror until the authorities began to carry Grant's body away from the crime scene.

**Oh. My. God. I am a monster. I introduce a character, make him likable, and then BOOM. Dead. Leave a review if you freaked out of something when I did that to you guys. I wouldn't blame you. **

**Shout out to:**

**-Michael Khouri**

**-Forever Me**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**-sarafine-ecleips**

**And everyone else who reads!**

**Remember, if you have any questions, feel free to leave a "'3'" at the end of your review and I'll be happy to respond to you in the next chapter.**

**I don't know, I feel like I half assed this one. I got writer's block for a while and I just feel like I bulshitted you all. I feel bad. I promise that the next chapter will be hella awesome and it will come soon. If I do not retain my promise, I will eat sat and vinegar. Raw.**

**Lovies! '3'**


	7. The Decision Day

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

**Okay, I feel like I need to get this out as soon as possible, so let's do this. As you readers know, I killed off Grant in the last chapter, after introducing him. And, I feel bad to be honest with you. A couple of you guys were genuinely upset at what I did there and I feel like I should apologise. Don't get me wrong, I loved Grant too. In fact, I named him after one of my best friends. I had **_**a lot **_ **planned for him too. But, I don't know. I guess I changed my mind. I hated writing his death, for real. I'm sorry I made you guys suffer through that Please forgive me :( Oh, by the way, this isn't directed at anyone. Just wanted to get my thoughts out there. Omg Grant irl read this after showing me a picture of Lanky Kong Acupuncture and said, "You killed me!?". He's also disappointed that he didn't die in a blaze of glory whilst blazing with Snoop Dogg.**

**Lovies! '3'**

Chapter 7- The Decision Day

The swordsman's stand felt much lonelier without Grant. Hiro sat at the back table, and he watched people pass by with a blank expression. It had been a week since he had passed away, killed by the gambler. It turns out that the deceased gambler, known as Daniel Peace, had grown up with anger issues and was arrested several times for assault and battery. Speculation had also stated that Grant's death and the old man was not the first deaths he had caused. Considering how Hiro himself had almost been a victim himself of the crazed man and his gang, he was not surprised by the accusations.

The Final Farewell (1) for Grant was organized to be later that day. Hiro wasn't looking forward to it. When he had finally calmed down from his hysteria after practically watching his new friend get murdered, Hiro had cried for what seemed like an eternity. He had felt awful and at fault for the loss of the man's life. He was protecting him; if Hiro hadn't scammed Daniel and his fellow gamblers, Grant wouldn't have met Hiro, and felt the need to sacrifice his life. _But I wouldn't have gotten so close to getting answers, _Hiro couldn't help but think selfishly. The young Hamada shook his head and stood from his place and began to remove the blades from their places at the front of the stand to the back. The stand was no longer in Grant's possession, and was going to be taken up by some random con artist at some point or another. The only reason Hiro had gone back to the stand was to clean up what was left behind, and assure that nothing was free game to the sneaky and greedy hands of the Black Market.

Also, his mother's katana still sat on the table in the back. Hiro wasn't to leave that behind any time soon.

Occasionally, Hiro would stop and observe the blades of the daggers carefully, and polish them with the rag the Grant had handed to him the day before. If he wasn't paying careful attention, Hiro would find himself polishing the same blade, in the same spot, trying to shine off the dark story behind the blade. Hiro was in one of these moments when he noticed a man standing in front of the stand, watching him carefully.

Hiro looked up to get a better look at the man than what an over polished dagger could give. Sharp, warm blue eyes watched the young Hamada with an analytical squint to them. His hair was greyed, but still held the faint sign of being once a deep shade of brunette. The man had a backpack hanging loosely on one of his shoulders that appeared to be burdened with a great weight from within. For some reason, the man was smiling at Hiro. The young Hamada couldn't smile back, however. Death just did that to him.

"I'm sorry, sir. But this stand is closed for a while." Hir told the man in front of him, continuing to put Grant's old blades into boxes and other storage units.

The man just smiled down at the teen. "I don't come to purchase, but to observe." He said simply.

"I hope you are observing the blades." Hiro warned with a raised eyebrow and a blade casually pointed at the man. Said man laughed a small, breathy chuckle. "I promise, that is my intention. But may I ask what a boy such as yourself is doing handling these swords alone?"

"The person who owned this stand, along with all of these daggers and swords, passed away last week. I worked for him at the time, so I'm cleaning up what's left, so someone else could have their business at the stand."

"Ah, yes, Grant," the man sighed sadly, "It's really a pity that he passed away so young. He was only in his early forties if I recall."

"You knew Grant?" Hiro asked the man,looking up from his work.

"I did, I was his teacher."

Hiro blinked a moment before the connection clicked in his head. He dropped the dagger he was holding into the box below. His jaw dropped as he backed up with awe of the man standing before him. "Alistair Krei…"

Master raised an eyebrow, still holding his smile. "You're familiar with me? Not too many people are."

"W-well, Grant said you made a sword for my mother," Hiro studdard, suddenly nervous. He was so close to the truth, he could feel himself shaking. "And my father. I was hoping to meet you…"

"Do you have the blade with you?"

"Actually, yes! It's right here-" Hiro turned his back to grab the katana and handed it to Master Krei, "Grant said the braid is a symbol of your work. Does this sword seem familiar to you at all?"

Hiro watched with anticipation as Alistair Krei carefully observed th katana presented. His eyes skillfully followed the lines and his hands ran up and down the blade without a trace of trouble. Hiro found himself smiling, but stopped himself. Krei reminded him of Grant. His kindness, the way he professionally observed the blade in front of him. As Krei continued to observe the katana, Hiro sat down on a stool and quietly stared at his reflection in one of the daggers in the box.

Depression was a powerful emotion he had felt before. One time when his parents had passed. Another time was now, when Grant had been forced out of his life as soon as he was in. The worst experience with the dark feeling was when Tadashi had died. Hiro will be the first to admit that he had never been the same since Tadashi's death day. He could never forget the twirling embers as they took his older brother and scorched him into nothing but ash and smolder: his only remains were a couple of shreds of ash-colored cloth. Hiro had never cried so much, eaten so little, and stared into nothingness so often in his life as he did when he mourned for his brother. Just as a fangirl wouldn't accept the death of her favourite character, Hiro could not accept his older brother's death. He prayed to The Masks everyday for two months that his brother was somehow miraculously alive. He prayed and hoped that he had somehow fled from the back exit, hid somewhere, and swore to go get him someday. But that day never came. But Hiro kept fooling himself with a false hope, and knew it better than anybody else. Tadashi had built Hiro from the ground up, and the death of the builder more often than not leads to malfunction in the machine. The darkness in his heart had never been so powerful since, but has never left, either.

Master Krei nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when he saw Hiro's emotional distance. He placed the katana on the table and patiently waited for Hiro to return to the waking world. When he did, Hiro looked up at Alistair and bit his lip. "Sorry," he muttered, "Sometimes I just...I don't know…Feel bad I guess."

"What for? You didn't do anything wrong." Krei pestered.

"Well, when Grant died-"

"Let me stop you right there." Krei held his hand up in front of Hiro's face for emphasis. "I repeat. You did nothing wrong. What happened, happened. Sometimes, good people have bad things happen to them. You're to have to accept that, my boy. The Masks had fated for Daniel to die due to his actions. Grant was an honorable sacrifice in that wa-"

"But that's not _right._" Hiro protested.

Master Krei sighed and shook his head. "But it is. If the Masks had decided for a man to die, then is set to die. Grant only helped them in this task. His sacrifice was honorable because he went beyond his purpose."

"Did Daniel really need to die though?"

"That is something you do _not _want to question, young man."

Hiro flinched at the sharpness of Krei's tone, noticing the harsh glare he was receiving from him. Strangely, at least to Hiro, he did not shrink under his gaze. "I'm not questioning it. I'm just wondering about the other options. I mean, how do we know he really knew what was doing? He didn't die the other times he did really bad stuff."

"You dare speak of Grant's honorable death in vain?"

"That's not what I- UGH. Look, Master Krei, what I meant to say was-"

Before Hiro could finish, a loud, monotonous beep sounded overhead, silencing the surrounding the world. Hiro's heart skipped a beat when he heard the sound and jumped out of his seat. Master Krei couldn't help but chuckle at the youth's reaction. Both of them knew exactly what the sound meant. Everyone knew. With a lethargic enthusiasm, the world set back in motion, and people continued on, past their original stop points, and straight to the nearest television screen. "I completely forgot," Alistair Krei muttered slowly, caught up in the motions, watching people rush by, " Today the Áldozats are chosen, aren't they?"

Hiro nodded slowly, coming to a realization himself. Just over two weeks ago, Naegi had been chosen as San Fransokyo's Blessed, along with Abigail, Callaghan's beloved daughter. Along with probably over 500 other kids, only five will be allowed to live. Only five get to live the good life. Only five have to watch the friends they just made die. Whenever he heard that monotonous call, Hiro couldn't help think back to the day Tadashi was a Blessed, and the mournful smile he wore when he was not chosen, and forced to say farewell to his little brother.

"If you want, you can come to the café and watch there." Hiro said suddenly after he stood from his seat behind the counter.

Master Krei nodded in acceptance and followed Hiro out of the Black Market to the outside Square. For a while, the two walked in silence, along with everyone else in the city. But Alistair spoke up from the lull of the melancholy, "I understand what you mean,uh-"

"Hiro."

"Hiro. But here are things about our beliefs that are best left unquestioned. Sometimes because the answer is long gone, and also partly because we aren't supposed to know. Sometimes it's just best to be naive. You know?"

The young Hamada decided to not respond, and only hastily nod as he led Master Krei through the streets to Aunt Cass' café. Televisions flashed with the same scene as the two arrived in the café. When the "horn", as people call it, sounds, everyone gathers to the nearest location. His was specifically why Aunt Cass had purchased a large, flat screen TV for the café, and why Decision Day (2) was specifically the most busy day of the year. Hiro sat next to Aunt Cass behind the counter once he and Master Krei had arrived. She gave him a soft smile and patted him on the shoulder as Mochi patted over to him and meowed. Hiro scooped the cat in his lap and scratched Mochi's cheeks to soothe both the obese calico and himself.

The television screen flashed to what looked to be a man standing at a podium in lights, his face hidden by a brown mask, accented with black stripes thinning into triangles across his face, making him appear as some tiger. He wore all black otherwise, other than the cherry wood bow staff sitting on his back. Hiro didn't appear as excited as everyone else was to see this disguised face. This was The Mask known as Pride. He stood tall with his chin raised, and he spoke with a loud and energized voice, from what Hiro could recall. _Proud as a lion_, he would always think when he was this Mask.

Pride was the only mask that ever appeared to the masses of was supposedly the only one who had the "guts" to do it, in Hiro's eyes. The other Masks preferred to stay preserved and hidden away, in case the disconnect from their deity, and return to their mortal stature. Pride, however, took the risk that others were not willing to take (aside from Risk themself, who was too busy running around doing radical things) and stood in front of the faces of the millions who worshipped them.

"The time has come," Pride boomed, his voice echoing over the microphone, "For our yearly Decision Day. Two weeks ago, Blesseds had been chosen from across our lands to be considered to become the next generation's Áldozats. Their sacrifices will be great, and remembered, for ages to come. As we all know, only five are chosen to become the servants The Masks. Let us begin."

Pride glanced down at what seemed to be papers before him. He cleared his throat before continuing. "The names are…"

Hiro couldn't breathe. Ever since Tadashi wasn't chosen to be an Áldozat. An anticipation for the worst would always take hold of him as he sat in the same seat, on the same day, every year, to hear the same thing, over and over again. He had two people to route for; Abigail and Naegi. And that was all he could do: pray and hope for the best. He wanted to help somehow, he wanted to see the process. He wanted to know how they choose Blesseds, how they choose Áldozats, why Tadashi wasn't chosen. He wanted to know, and he probably wouldn't. Hiro refused to accept that. In the back of his mind, he knew he wouldn't stop chasing answers. He would keep asking questions about his world, wondering if there are other ways to look at something. Other ways to play a scenario out. "A new angle" as his older brother once told him. He wasn't thinking about that, however. At this very moment, Hiro was only focused on the names that were about to be announced. Pride took an awful amount of time to start announcing the names. He also paused greatly in between each one.

"Kyra Knight."

One.

"Charles Fichman."

Two.

"Abigail Callaghan."

Hiro smiled slightly. Three.

"Jared Holt."

Four.

"Maximiliano Theunissen."

Five.

Hiro couldn't help but glare at the television as applause erupted throughout the café, through the city, through the world. Why hadn't they chosen Naegi? He was a really good kid! And now he's forced into death, and Amu and the rest of his family have to suffer! _How cruel can the world be?!_

Pride stood in his own silence as the expected applause from the people commenced in the world around him. He was in a private room, presumed to be in The Center. After a few more moments, he spoke up and broke the silence around him to create more in the café. "As usual, the death days of the Blesseds who have not been chosen will be celebrated tomorrow in their designated locations. I, and my other fellow Masks, thank you all for your undying commitment and devotion." Then the screen went black before returning to the regularly scheduled programming. Aunt Cass turned the television off and looked at Hiro with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." She muttered, patting him on the shoulder comfortingly.

The young Hamada continued to stare at the now inactive TV screen, his grip on Michi tightening slightly. The cat meowed and pawed lightly at Hiro's hands to make him release, so she could hop down and return to her food. Hiro took a deep breath to control his anger. He was never really satisfied with who The Masks choose to be Áldozats. He remembered arguing with Tadashi over who could have been better every year. The year Tadashi was chosen, he could only say that Tadashi deserved to live. "I need to talk to Amu," he finally said to Aunt Cass, "I wanna make sure she's okay."

Hiro's aunt nodded and pointed at the door, where people were either shuffling in or out of the building. "She should be at home. Tell her family that they have my condolences."

He nodded and hopped up from his seat, running out the door. He practically ran six blocks to where Amu and her family lived. It was as smaller than her remembered, when he finally arrived, a panting mess. The paint on the sides was aged and chipped, once a soft baby blue but now a faded lavender. Their stairs were similar withered: the bricks were broken in several places. Amu sat on them, looking down at her feet. Hiro took a deep breath and approached her cautiously, as a hunter would prey. But this was no pain-inducing matter. He only wanted to be careful. She noticed him after a few moments, and offered a fake smile before she attempted to run away her fallen tears. "Hey," she choked out, "Didn't see you there. Has Grant's Final Farewell happened yet?"

Hiro shook his head and sat next to Amu on the stairs, looking at her. "You gonna be okay?" He asked.

It appeared as though Anu was going to respond positively, but she instead smiled pathetically and shook her head, giving into her sorrows and weeping. Hiro pulled her girl into a hug and let her cry on his shoulder. She tried not to show her weakness, as she always did when she cried, but this was the final straw to her. She had lost her older brother, the one she looked up to most out of everyone. But he was gone now, Naegi was going to die tomorrow. She couldn't stop it, her parents couldn't stop it, nobody had that kind of power to stop his fate. Forcing back his own sadness, Hiro knew exactly how she felt.

Time ticked on for an undetermined time as the two sat alone together. The heavens cried with Amu and her family as rain began to scatter across the roads. Niro prepared to leave for Grant's Farewell when Amu decided to speak up again. "I'm sorry I shove all my sorrows on you," she laughed bitterly, "You're probably having pretty bad flashbacks, am I right?"

Hire could only shrug. "In a sense. But you're definitely not being a burden, I know what you're going through. Literally. I promise you, he's gonna be okay. Hell, he's probably gonna end up some ace much better than here."

"Damn, you got a point there."

"Of course I do. You need to go inside before you freeze to death and be with your family. The Blesseds come back home after a few hours of not getting chosen."

Amu nodded and stood up, giving Hiro one last hug before he left. "Tell Grant I'm sorry that happened to him."

She then wiped away her last years and smiled at Hiro before retreating up the stairs and closing the door behind her. For a few moments, Hiro looked up at the sky, and let the rain fall down on his face. He wondered briefly just how many people had lost their lives, and were considered an honorable sacrifice. How many people thought that those people should have been saved. How many families mourned. Then, he pretended he wasn't crying, thinking about Grant and Tadashi and Naegi and his parents, Hiro slowly made his way back to café in order to prepare for the ceremony.

The Final Farewell was brief, as they all are. A Watcher says a prayer with everyone, hey bury the body, and sit in silence as the Grave Diggers cover the casket with the Earth's accepting hands. Halfway through, Hiro noticed Master Krei was standing beside him. Neither shared words until after the ceremony, as people slowly departed from the melancholy scene. Hiro began to walk in one direction, and Master Krei began to follow.

"I never got to give you the results of my examination of your katana." He said, trying to keep up with the young Hamada.

"What is it, then?" He asked, uninterested.

"Well, I can guarantee that it was my work. I made it many years back, in fact. I can't remember exactly the details of the request, but it was for two like blades. A couple, I think."

Hiro slowed his pace and looked at Alistair. "So there were two swords?"

The older man nodded, a small smile on his face. "Yes. One blade, the other blade, to be more specific, was designed to be heavier, and with a different style of scabbard."

"How do you remember it so well?"

"I saw it recently."

**Alright! Back in action! Woot! I really hope that you guys are enjoying this story so far. I know that I don't know any of you too well, but I really do want to make you all happy with what I'm writing. Well, time for notes!**

**(1)-this is pretty simple. The equivalent to a funeral, really. I hope the explanation near the end sums it up.**

**(2)- also pretty simple. Basically, this is the day that Áldozats are decided out of the Blesseds. Then the next day is the designated death days. **

**Yay notes done! Now, two of you guys actually wanted me to respond to your review and questions. Keep in mind, that you can put a "'3'" at the end of your review and I will answer any questions you have in the notes of the next chapter!**

*****_**yelps in horror*  
NOOooOOOoooOOO!  
Okay, I'm fine now. Just had to say that xD**_

_**Uh, my question; probably dumb, but will Tadashi and Hiro reunite at all? I don't care in which way, even if one or both of them is/are dead, but I want to know if they will be in eachother's prescence again.**_

_**3!**_

_**-CrazyFeralVigilanteDragonLady**_

**Okay, first of all, I love your pen name. Second of all, I don't think I can answer this question... Looks like you'll have to keep reading to find out! I'm sorry, but that is classified until written. Thanks for the question, though! No fear in asking!**

_**What?!  
WHAT?!  
Okay, gamblers were like Yama. Take note of that...  
And why would Hiro easily trust Grant just like that?  
I know he could help him to find the authorities of his mother's katana, but hey, still a stranger!  
Hiro: Shut up you motherhen *pouts*  
And what is a rapier?  
Put this again! Hahah, three times babe!  
'3'3'3'3'3''3'3'3'3'3'3'3'  
Update soon!**_

_**-Purpalz Miner**_

**Pearl! What up, buddy! It's been a while! Thanks for the review! And to answer your question, I saw Grant as one of those people you trust really fast, because they show their loyalty rather quickly. I've been lucky enough to meet people like that and hope that everyone else has to. **

**Shout out to:**

**-Michael Khouri**

**-Purpalz Miner**

**-CrazyFeralVigilanteDragonLady**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**-Forever Me**

**-graceful-rain**

**-IAmBehindYou123**

**-KKP2LB**

**An everyone else who reads!**

**Holy moly guys. Finally, I'm on vacation and am ready to hardcore write! (That is, when I'm not applying for a job at GameStop, wish me luck) Anyway, I hope that this was nice and long and soon to come up. If you think I took too long and deserve to drink salt and vinegar raw together, leave a review. Thank you all so much for reading!**

**Lovies! '3'**


	8. The Note, The Mask, The Letter

Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, or any of its characters. A girl can dream, but this ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Chapter 8- The Note,The Mask, The Letter

Hiro stopped and spun on his heels and stared Master Krei down. He searched as best he could for any lies in the man's eyes. Had he _really _seen his father's katana? It seemed too good to be true. "How do you know it was the same sword we're talking about?" Hiro asked cautiously.

Alistair held the young Hamada's gaze for a moment. "I may be old," he said with a smirk, "But I can still retain memory."

Hiro shook his head and continued walking down the gravel path in the graveyard. "It just seems to be too much of a coincidence."

"Perhaps it is. But, I am not lying. A young man had it. It was slightly… used, and he had asked me to repair it. To see that blade's sister so soon is rather strange, I admit. But, it must be a sign."

Before Hiro could ask anything else, Master Krei put his hand on the young Hamada's shoulder. "I think he'll want to see you and that katana," He whispered to him, noticing the look hey we're both getting from Aunt Cass, "Come find me tomorrow at Grant's old stand, and we can figure something out."

Then he was gone. He had left Hiro alone with a strange offer and a clouding sky. Aunt Cass had asked him who Alistair was, and Hiro decided to be vague and say he was only a friend of Grant's. She didn't accept this excuse, but pretended she had. Then the two left the grey fields to its never ending silence for the warm lights of home. Hiro hid away in his room as soon as they returned, and left his aunt to her tears.

When he returned to his little nest after a long day of emotional turmoil and suffering, Hiro at first laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts were all jumbled around, ramming into each other to make themselves more important than the other. He thought about Grant, Naegi, Amu, Master Krei, Abigail, The Masks, Aunt Cass, Tadashi, and his parents. But he specifically thought about the questions he had, and the new ones that were sprouting. _Why would Master Krei ask me if I wanted to meet the guy with my father's katana? Why did someone steal the one sword and not the other? Does this guy know that it's stolen? Why was the sword damaged? Couldn't he go to just and other smith to repair it? Is this really a coincidence? Or is it something more? Does this man know anything about the sword? Does he know something about my parents? Why wasn't Naegi chosen to be an Áldozat? What's gonna happen to Amu and her family? What happens when your an Áldozat? Are we ever going to hear from Abigail again? Dammit, I don't __**know!**_

_I need to know._

His mother's katana sat in the corner of the closet, as it had the nights before while Hiro fell into a dreamless and inconsistent sleep, being the pattern he had been forced into the past few weeks. As soothing as the cool breeze from his window was, Hiro tossed and turned in his bed, disheveling the sheets and blankets only further. a gentle chime sounded with the wind from the front door of the café as the window creaked with the pressure of the intruder.

He seemed almost invisible, for the darkness of the room provided him spare blending shades, and his coat resembled a starless night sky. He landed lightly next to Hiro's bed and watched the boy for a few moments. He had his back turned to the man, and held the blankets close to his chest as he slept, completely unaware that he was not alone. The intruder seemed intrigued by the young boy, and held still in his place for a few minutes longer before beginning to search for what he came to do.

He at first stood in the middle of the room and observed the cluttered surroundings. A desk, a huge clock, a cat sitting on a second bed, Shelves with books and robots and statues; no sign of the katana. The intruder knelt on the ground and peeked under the bed Hiro slept on. Once again, nothing but clothes and papers. Then he approached an abandoned bed, that once belonged to Tadashi. Before checking beneath the bed, the man held his gaze on the pristine and slightly cat hair infested sheets and touched them lightly with a graze of his hand before lightly petting the sleepy Mochi and searching fruitlessly for his goal. Then he checked the closet. As he opened it, the old wood creaked loudly in the silence, and Mochi mowed. He hissed at his own mistake and stared down the calico to shut up, but she only meowed again, and hopped from her spot on the bed towards Hiro. The intruder cursed silently and tore the door open, giv big up on stealth. He dug through the closet before finally coming across the katana in question; finely polished and unused. The intruder grabbed the sword from its place as Mochi began prodding Hiro's side with her paw.

"Mochi, stop it," the teen muttered in his sleep, "Go away."

One last, and rather sonorous, clash of stuffed objects erupted from the closet, and Hiro opened his eyes, finally putting the pieces together. His closet was seemed to be spontaneously exploding, and Mochi was right next to him, nudging her head against his back, obviously in a cuddly mood. He shot up from his bed and glanced around his room frantically. He secretly begged that it would be Aunt Cass, or Hell, Grant rising from the dead. But instead he saw nobody at all. Confused by the lack of life in his room, Hiro shot up from his bed and looked around his room. He never saw anybody, but he knew that they _were _there.

Hiro's closet door was wide open; it was forced to stay that way from the fallen blueprints and boxes and other objects that clustered together on the floor. Both of the windows in the bedroom were wide open, and the night's stars shone through with a faded glow from behind the clouds, and the wind sat silently, waiting to rise up from the ocean a ways away. One other object was out of place, other than the clutters of random knick knacks on the ground. On Tadashi's bed sat Hiro's mother's katana, and a note tucked underneath it. The young Hamada picked the sword up and observed it cautiously once he slowly made his way across the floor to the lonely half of the room. He unsheathed the katana, and saw no major flaws with the blade. It seemed practically untouched, truth be told: simply significantly moved. _Someone's trying to tell me something, _Hiro couldn't help but think to himself_._ Hiro stared at the note for a few moments, wondering about its contents, before he picked up the seemingly insignificant paper and read it in silence. What he found shocked him.

_I have the other blade. Krei told me about you. _

_I cannot directly answer your questions. Go to The Shrine tomorrow early morning. She will tell you what She can. Then go to Krei. He will help you further. _

_We will meet someday._

Hiro couldn't sleep for the rest of the night.

The Shrine was meant to be a utopia, a place of peace. It really sucked that Hiro felt as though he was about to get jumped.

With the note tight in his hand, Hiro entered The Shrine's door before sunrise, as scheduled. He knew Amu would be looking for him when it was time for Naegi's death, and he wanted to be there for her. He also wanted to get Krei out of the way as well, and kill two birds in one day. Not with one stone, for time was still going to be miraculously consumed, of course. The plants inside were still an evergreen and colorful, just as it had been numerous times before. The small table in the center of The Shrine appeared to be untouched, and dusted lightly by a delicate hand. The young Hamada knelt in front of the small table as he had always done before in his life. Nothing moved. Nothing was different. Everything seemed normal. For a brief while, Hiro thought he was being punked. It wouldn't be a first; Yukio had an irresistible urge to play with anyone's head when he had the chance. He would even go to extreme levels as to break into someone's home (to Hiro's knowledge, Yukio had been busted by friends for breaking and entering their homes about 5 times, himself included). With a heavy sigh, Hiro readied himself for prayer. It at least gives him an excuse to slip away from Aunt Cass for a while to talk to-

"What are you doing here, child?"

Hiro's heart skipped a beat and he whipped around at the sudden voice, soft but sharp,emerged from the entrance of The Shrine. He shoved the table with his sudden movement, and scrambled to put it back in place, after realizing who was in the sacred terrarium with him.

Beauty.

An elegantly painted mask with yellow crystals hanging from the two lower tips of the porcelain shield covered her face. It appeared to be as though a crystal butterfly rested delicately upon her nose, fanning its large wings out to block out any unworthy eyes. Just as her fellow Masks did, she wore black robes, to protect her body from the coming chill. Her hair, a golden blonde, flowed freely from the top of her head down to her back in a polished, symmetrical line. The Mask who was honored by this Shrine that the two of them stood in, momentarily returned home. And Hiro was fucking up, right in front of her. _Hard._

"I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Do not worry," Beauty chuckled, " there is no harm in nudging a simple table."

Hiro nodded quickly and returned the table to its normal position before standing abruptly, careful to avoid Beauty's eyes. It was meant that one was challenging a Mask if they dared to look them in the eyes. "I didn't think you would be here-"

_"She will tell you what She can."_

Holy shit. This was planned. Whomever had left Hiro that note _knew _that Beauty would be here today. He _knew_ about Hiro's questions. This mysterious man (if it even is a man) might have answers that Hiro is looking for. He has the katana. He has the information. He plans to help Hiro. Best to take this opportunity to the fullest.

"Actually, I did know you were going to be here." Hiro finally finished.

"Is that so?" Beauty asked cautiously, slowly approaching Hiro. "And do you think I knew you would be here?"

Hiro thought for a moment before holding out the note to the Mask. "It says that you will tell me what you can."

The Mask took the note with a slow, gentle movement and read it delicately. Hiro watched her hands the entire time, as though he were attempting to memorize the carefully tended to nails on her fingertips, and the paled skin around the knuckles as she held the note. "I see," Beauty finally said, before returning the note to Hiro after nodding lightly, "You were sent here to interrogate me."

"That's not true," Hiro retorted, not realizing he had a defensive snap to his voice, "I only want to ask some questions. I want to understand_._"

"Before I answer your questions, I want you to answer mine," Beauty said suddenly. Hiro nodded, and allowed her to continue. "Where did you find this note?"

"In my room, after someone broke in."

"And you didn't report this?"

"I didn't want to scare my Aunt."

"And this Krei, you know him?"

"I was looking for him, because he made the sword I was looking for."

"The one that the writer of this note has?"

"That's the one."

"...Do you fear death?"asked the masked figure, looking down at the youth.

"No." Came the simple answer.

"Then you fear people killing?"

"No."

"Well then, child, what brings you to my Shrine on you death day?"

Hiro looked up into the holes of the mask, a determination apparent in his dark but glowing eyes. "I want to know why you kill."

Hiro, who had felt a sudden surge of courage, held Beauty's gaze for what seemed to be an eternity. Her eyes, A soft hazel-green, held his own with a hard glare that held quite strong (and perhaps even strengthened) as time passed on. "I want to know why you kill the not chosen Blesseds have to be killed. Is it because they know something they shouldn't?"

"Because they cannot live with not achieving that honor." Beauty sneered, her glare still firm.

Hiro shook his head, feeling all the more frustrated. "But that's what you _want _them to think! How could you _know?!_"

"We don't know."

"Then what's the fucking point!?"

Hiro but his tongue to keep himself from expressing his lovely word choice further. He had finally averted his eyes from the Mask, and didn't bother to dare himself to look back. His courage had gone, and the shade it held over his head cleared, revealing the hole he had finally dug himself into. What was he thinking? Not only did he just absolutely disrespect one of the most holy people he ever met (in their own holy place, to add) but he straight up challenged their beliefs and swore right at them! Hiro thought for a moment before he added to his previous vulgar statement how there was no point to judge a person's life on something they did not achieve based off of (what Hiro believes to be) random selection.

"You have quite the nerve child, much like your brother." Beauty noted matter-of-factly, crossing her arms.

"…You knew Tadashi?"

"Of course I did!" She went on to say, "All the Masks must at least learn about the Blesseds and their achievements every year. Of course I had met him as well, since he originated from the land I have my Shrine in."

"So that means you know who I am?"

"I do indeed. Not a day went by when Tadashi didn't mention his younger brother Hiro."

The young Hamada felt a chill follow the trail of his spine. Something about a Mask knowing who he was seemed exciting. In a sense, it made him feel special for a few minutes as Beauty continued to speak his brother's lost praise. "He mostly spoke highly of you: your intelligence, your compassion, your thirst for knowledge. But, your flaws were his complaints as well: stubborn, hotheaded, and short tempered are the one I can recall."

"I am not a hot-"Hiro shut himself up before he proved Beauty's point further. He could just feel her smirking.

Beauty didn't miss a beat, "Of course you aren't. My point is that I knew Tadashi well, and considered him quite worthy of becoming an Áldozat."

"Then why wasn't he chosen?"

"We had... Other plans."

"What other plans?"

"Do you really wish to know, Hiro?"

"That's kinda the point to why I'm here, asking."

"...You must leave your home then."

Hiro stared at Beauty for what seemed to be the minute time stopped itself. Leave his home? Hiro had never once left the secure walls of San Fransokyo in his life. Not for Tadashi, not for school, not for anyone or anything. How could he just suddenly pick up everything, and leave everyone behind? And his Aunt Cass? How would she feel about him suddenly running off? And what about Yukio? Or Amu? His schoolwork? "There's now way I could do that!"

"I'm afraid that there is very little option for you," Beauty sighed, "Either stay here, and never find the answers you seek, or give up this life, and find out where Tadashi is."

"I'm not going to give up my family just to answer some questions that's insane-WAIT _WHAT?!_"

"Tadashi is alive. If you want to know where he is, you will go with this Krei person. I shall contact him, and tell him what he needs to know. You may inform someone's face what you would be doing, but only one, by letter. Now what will you decide?"

"Now?"

"Better now than never."

"I... I..."

The sun had set over the cemetery with a mournful and solemn glow. Amu stood over her elder brother's grave with the rest of her family in silence. The death day was done. Her brother was dead.

And Hiro wasn't there.

Amu didn't just cry for her brother, but for herself, as selfish as that sounds. All of her other closest friends were right beside her for the whole day, minus one. She had wanted to see Hiro out of everyone else, for he had felt this pain. He had suffered this loneliness. He had coped with the darkness, the anger, the confusion. But tonight she felt more alone than she had felt in years. She needed him, and he wasn't there. He was always there. Amu could only force herself to conclude that something had went horribly wrong when he had tried to get there. His Aunt was there, however. She seemed to have no problem with arriving on time, going through the motions with everyone else. Amu had asked Cass if she had known anything about Hiro's whereabouts, and she only received a sullen shake of the head. She wasn't mad; she was too tired to be mad. All of her energy was thrusted into a constant sadness: a deep weight of the day's tears took a tiring toll on her energy.

People began to depart from Naegi's grave, which laid beside all of the other fallen Blesseds. Amu wiped the drying tears from her face with a black lace sleeve before slowly walking down the graves, reminiscing on the people she had never truly knew, but always felt a small pity for. The stone plaques raised from the ground read their names in a simple but beautiful font.

_Cameron Dallas_

_Samantha Hathaway _

_Akashi Yotsuba _

_Meghan Blue_

_Yoona Winchester_

_Tadashi Hamada_

She stopped briefly in front of Tadashi's grave, reminded briefly of Hiro. She knelt down and began to pick off the growing lichens out of the grooves of the elder Hamada's name.

"Don't bother with it," Cass said suddenly behind her, "It's a lie."

Before Amu could say anything, to question Cass' well being, or Hiro's whereabouts once again, or what she meant when she said Tadashi's grave was a lie, she handed the teen a letter. The top folded flap read "Aunt Cass" in Hiro's handwriting. The contents of the letter shared a similar font. It was a letter from Hiro to his Aunt, just for clarification. Any didn't cry as she read, but her heart shattered as her eyes darted across the words:

_Aunt Cass,_

_I'm sorry, but I have to leave. I promise I'll try to come back._

_You're probably really confused as to why I am suddenly packing my things and going on a bizarre journey. Trust me, I would give you all the details if I had the time. Unfortunately I don't have the time, so I'll try to give you the basic rundown. I wanted to find out what happened to my dad's katana. I was searching for it because I hoped someone would know about my parents. I got lucky and met Grant, who knew the guy who made the katanas, who was the guy I was talking to the other day at Grant's Farewell._

_Then someone broke into my room and left a note. Don't freak out, nothing was stolen. I made sure. But it was from the person who has my dad's katana. He told me to go to The Shrine this morning to talk to someone. I thought I was being punked by someone, but I actually met a Mask! Yeah, no joke! It was Beauty, and she answered some of my questions and told me so much._

_She also said Tadashi was alive, and if I wanted to see him again and answer all of my questions, I would have to leave. _

_I would have asked you if I could. She made me make a decision right then and there. As much as I want to stay, I want to see if Tadashi is okay even more. I want to understand what happened to him. I want proof that that grave marker is a lie. I want to know._

_I love you so much. I'm so sorry I made this decision. I will come home. I will bring Tadashi with me. Burn this when you're done._

_I love you, I can't say it enough. I'm scared about where I'm going. I love you and everyone so much. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to Naegi's Farewell. I hope Amu's okay._

_Hiro_

***rises from my grave* I'm baaaack! Wow, it has been a while since I've been posting. I'm so so so so so so SO sorry for that. Did I mention I'm sorry? Anywho, as a reward for you all hanging out and waiting for my not so grand return, I put three chapters into one. I know it's a lot to take in, but hey, I love long chapters (to read, not exactly to write). So, I hope you enjoy, and I really appreciate you guys hanging on for so long! Also, sorry for any errors, I happened to be editing this one on my own, and I have a tendency to be REEEEEEEEEEALLY lazy.**

**Shout out to:**

**-Madbunnyrabbit**

**-Alter-Knight**

**-A Brilliant Loser**

**And everyone else!**

**Remember, if you want me to respond to a review, please leave a '3' at the end!**

**Lovies! '3'**


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